The Eye of Minds
by Your108thNecromancer
Summary: In a world far into the future, anthro and human live together. But all is not right in this world, and it is up to our hero, a kind of MLK, to unite the races...before it's too late. I mean that in the worst possible way (Come on, Han, old buddy, don't let me down!)
1. Cornea

(Heya heya. This chapter is really only exposition set for the world, and its logistics, so it won't be too long. Enjoy, I hope you will.)

In a world long past, there was once a time where humans lived all alone. Aside from those really awesome pets that can do amazing things, or those test animals that escaped that you hear about only in creepy campfire stories (if it's the Bunny Man, not really an animal, but close enough: he can still hang ya by your intestines.), we had no other animals like us. We all existed in our own ways and tunes, but a lot of notes were quite screeching in noise, and of course, we started to annihilate this world. Mother 3 really does display this: the world, once lush and dense with forestation and life, is now a metallized mechanical invention, leading to the Great Extinction: almost no other animals are alive due to the Shockwave Disaster, which also killed nearly every infant, child, or other person with certain mental disabilities, such as encephalitis, or anything relating to it.

In a desperate race to try and fix their mistakes, far too late might I add, scientists rushed to their newest creation: The Centresro Lab. That lab contained equipment to reanimate life and clone cells like nothing else before. It was shut down after zombie and vampire fanatics tried to bring the world down with those two ghouls. Of course, it just brought the dead to life again (quite a pain for morticians and newspapers with obituaries alike). However, this lab was now being used to re-create animals necessary for our benefit: sea creatures, land animals, other mammals, and fowl all alike were created en masse, to the delight of everyone. However, one day after an experiment, a specific lab chamber was not sterilized, 13A7. Remember that, it'll be useful for later. Anyway, so much DNA was left behind that during the next experiment, a shocking discovery was made: no baby animals were found. Instead, strange anthropomorphic animals were made instead, babies indeed but none as expected. The first were the Three Leaders, the ancestors of all anthro animals: a crow, a kangaroo, and a Nubian goat. The two females and one male (the crow is the male. You are hopefully smart enough to know whom the females are.) made for quite an interesting development: they developed a different sense than humans did.

Most anthro animals that existed never actually acted like humans. Despite sharing the DNA that made them, they were very different. For one, multiple relationships/marriages were acceptable, but there was always one thing: you are eternally vowed to the first you married, so as long as you acknowledge that, you're fine. Eternal vows means that no matter how many true loves you have, your first lover is the one your heart will belong to when you die. If you break this bow and consider another lover to love you more, you will become quite a social pariah as soon as it's found out. In human relationships, as we all know, more than one relationship is a big no-no, much less 10. Or 30 or 68 or 728. As well as that, a throw connect easier, are much laxer on what laws should be established and punishments for breaking them, and have many less boundaries than others. Due to how mating works, many anthros started to become known in the continents, and eventually the world. Alas, this what not to last. No matter what, those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it, and it's no more different here, sadly. At first, millions of anthro animals become slaves to humans: why not have a mindless cow do it when a bigger, more intelligent and self-aware one can do it better? So it was much like how America was in the 1800's: a big fight against and for slavery. War broke out between the two species, double-crossers and sympathizer son both sides. The anthro species weren't intentionally being harmful, yet were being invasive; humans were around much longer but are attaching without much provocation; and a billion or so were left neutral, on neither side. Humans jade more gear, but anthros were vicious, and just kept reproducing. It takes an anthro only 3 months to bear a child, and you really can have a huge chance of having more than one at a time. They also had their own bodies, and the technology from raised facilities. After a 30 year war, both sides realized it was a tremendous waste of effort, so the the post Civil war came around. Many laws were made to discriminate against anthros in the west, in the east many were made for or against them, and in Japan they were openly welcomed. Tensions have been formed, and over the years laws have been reduced. We take a look at a story, of which race nor religion take a big of a role as species. Quick notes: their anatomy is like ours and theirs, so if they have 5 hearts as an animal, they have 5 for their anthro form. Also, laws against them are basically segregation. Now...listen to my story, will you?


	2. Pupil

Script Chapter 1: PCH.

It's ok. You don't know who I am, so I won't fault you if you're confused as to why I of all people am talking to YOU. I suppose many people would call me insane for talking to a diary, but it helps me think over my own thoughts. For in the vast expanse of the timelines which fly by, I am stuck on the ground in the most fictional one of all, for I would never believe this is real anymore. But that's ok.

So, it's kinda important for me to start with a description, huh? Well, here we go.

(Note: I am taking this from when I was a younger lad.)

Describing me is like describing a vampire: cold and mysterious. So help me if you think I'm a twilight vampire, then I am totally refusing to speak to you. Forever.

Anyway, I'm tall for my age, taller than some of the anthromorphs (more later, less now) in the school aside from the reptilian ones, most of them are waaaaaay bigger. I'm almost as pale as someone who's lost all their blood, probably because I nearly did once and never really got the blood back in me. My hair is always a mess to keep up with, since it always is spiky, like I took hair gel lessons from Sonic the hedgehog and then made my hair slightly dirty blonde in color. My eye is a sheen of yellow, and I know the plural of eye is eyes.

But that's ok. You can infer why I used only me, myself and eye, right? For the record, my eyepatch is pretty cool. Anyway! I wouldn't call myself 'naturally handsome' anymore, but I would call myself 'used to be naturally handsome and is now that guy with scars handsome.'. Legit, burns cover my face, and I look likes just went to the Knife Art Show. But only about 20%, the other 80% is the kind of skin you get for not going outside enough. I'm really thin in frame, and tall, I guess you can call me lanky or something. Probably because I don't eat much, to not waste resources. But that's ok. I usually wear whatever I have, and I have a lot of clothes the color black. It used to be burgundy, my dad's favorite color. After he went to the war, my favorite became black, because it conducts radiation energy better. Some people know me almost immediately by my shoes: I wear all black Converses, something that no one else does. I love that our school doesn't make uniform policies, by the way. My wardrobe is a bit sparse, but I have something to wear for every day of the week.

The reason is probably mom. She hasn't ever really had a job aside from teacher, so we can't help that. Also doesn't help that out of two kids, my little sister is the one spoiled absolutely rotten everywhere else. She is a huge temper-tantrum and silent treatment thrower, and literally gets just about anything she wants. Mom really is desperate to not let her image be ruined, but it already has been. No one in our neighborhood liked her because of how cruel she can be. For one, she's always in a bad mood and takes it out on me. I can't say "us", because Meredith gets into huge crying fits if mom snaps at her, and she has the excuse of being 6. I have the luck of being 17, extremely submissive and always in the worst times around her. She's only 38 but she's real harsh to me, I guess to toughen me up. Well I must say, I DO call bullshit there. She always cooks for Meredith and herself, but never me. Not even when I was younger. I'm almost ready to head out anyway, but she says if I do, 70% of my money goes to her for "safekeeping". I really know it's for alcohol and shopping sprees, so I don't plan on it. I'm a lab assistant, and get paid around $700 every hour in testing, $500 every hour in creating, and $300 per hour any other time. So I like it when we get to test our experiments, even if done blow up in my face, literally. But that's ok.

I usually just don't eat to make it easy on mom, no matter the fact she rages on me if I sneeze wrong, or that she gives anything of mine to my sister if Meredith asks for it, or that she's extremely speciest. That's the term that's come into effect recently. It means she discriminates against anthros, so it's a lot like racist. She almost lost her job to a petition to boot her out after she stopped teaching Math and started teaching about how utterly evil anthros are. With half her class these days being anthropomorphic teens, she better be glad the one other female math teacher is sympathetic to her views. I'm glad I don't go to her school, or I'd be ostracized by her and students. But it's ok. My emaciated appearance, thanks to only eating lunch, mostly would help them know it's hard. I don't eat breakfast or dinner, only lunch at school, to conserve on money and my own sanity. But, I digress.

We often have rocks thrown at our house and protesters outside of it at night too. That's how much she's disliked: for being incredibly speciest and abusing me at every chance. I'm giving it a week before I move, and since she can't stop me, I'm taking all of my things with me. Including what was once mine, and now always will be. It's a shame too, because only 3 houses around here have anthros but each and every one has very kind people. One is an old married couple, two very sweet elderly mosquitos, a lesbian couple of a dog and jackal down the street, and right next to us the Cinder family. You think mythical animals wouldn't exist even in this world now, but someone was smart enough, and engineered them to life. So next door is a female phoenix, a male dragon, and they have a daughter that's a hybrid, but only slightly: she's an anthro and has wings, but her wings are much more like her mom's, with feathers instead of scales, and very sleek. She has black scales, with red ones helping to like her underbelly, and while she has 4 small horns that look a bit like tiny spikes (they're only 4 inches big each), her tail is quite the devilish part, since it looks like a stereotypical devil tail: red and pointed. Her eyes are a beautiful—uh I mean very nice color of purple, and she has a very pretty face (don't expect me to say 'for a dragon'), and all three of the Cinder's are energetic, bright and full of kindness. Mom won't allow me to even look at their house, so I won't even grave her description except that she has grey hair right now. She must be getting older than she thought, which doesn't help her disposition.

But it's ok. Mr. Cinders looks a lot like his daughter, Misty, except more masculine due to being male. Mrs. Cinders is much like you would imagine the fiery bird species to be, except she has sharper features and for certain an endowed figure. If she walks through a narrow doorway her hips or thighs may get stuck, and Misty seems to be following suit (a bit more on misty later), for now at least. Anyway. Usually, my morning goes like this: wake up, shower, get ready for school, read, wait until mom wakes up, and then go outside. I usually wave hi or talk a bit with Mr. or Mrs. Cinders before I get in my car and drive off to school (a black 2043 Mercedes that lights up at night. I got it for free, so, woooo).

I'm a very submissive person, obviously my downfall. I never have it my way. But that's ok, because do I honestly matter? No [foreshadowing irony], but if I can be kind to everyone, even if it's just one person, I can make many other lives better. People don't like to mess with me though, because I'm honestly quite a miserable creature: pale, scarred, bone thin, and never tries to make eye contact. All this is made even better(?) by my hoodie, which I wear all the time, and yes, I'm allowed to wear it. It's black with an Assassin's creed logo covering the top right of it, with flames surrounding it, right below

are my initials: PCH. Phoenix C. Hathaway, at your service. I don't want to brag, but here are my classes:

AP Calculus, Honors English III, Advanced STEM, AIG, AP Chemistry, lunch A( it's a thing), and Biochemistry. Our high school works a lot different, depending on your previous years and credits and such. I'm hoping to become a pathologist or general surgeon, I have a scholarship for the college near us. NC is quite a nice place for anthros, bring a coastal state. Coastal states have less laws against anthros, mainly due to African occupation of really powerful anthro cities, that can probably deck us, honestly. Anthros gave that whole continent mad cred ( please don't judge). Misty goes there too, it's the only public high school that had as many choices as some colleges do around us. Charlotte is big, but this place could be bigger: it's stupidly big for a high school, nearly as big as a football stadium. Strangely enough, not many crimes happen here except the speciest ones.

But that's ok. If anyone attacks me, I can stab or shoot them with my pocket knife I keep in my hoodie, or the fragile also in my hoodie, respectively. I have permits, so don't worry. But I only use those when my dark side comes out. My dark side is quite a detestable thing, mainly because it gives me a love for blood. I guess I kinda am a vampire :T but it's ok. I only let it come out if I'm getting gangbanged or something, to boost me. I mean..I can read minds, thanks chemicals, but only if I really need to know what someone's thinking. It hurts my whole cranium to do it, and feels like an invasion of privacy. In any case, I better stop for now. Even after school ends for me and not mom, I have only 2 hours of silence and solitary time to myself before the party starts.

But it's ok.

(Thanks for reading, everyone! I do hope you enjoyed, and if you did, pick your favorite line from this chapter! Or don't. Whatever. See ya!)


	3. Iris

Script Chapter 2, PCH.

:2 DAYS UNTIL EXPIRATION:

Hello again. Not diary, but you, myself, and I. Listen up, brain. You'll need to remember for later! Anyway. I'm outside early today, waiting a bit so I won't be too early. Out walks Mr. Cinder, off to work. He owns the biggest coastal anthro company in the NA continent, all he does most the time is supervise his company and organize all his stocks and shares and DOWJ and all that, but today he doesn't have to head out, symbolized by his button up shirt, blue, and his khaki pants. If he was going to work, he'd wear his brown suit and red tie in some navy blue dress pants. He usually comes outside to get the paper or the mail, but he enjoys talking to me nonetheless. He sees me and smiles, to which I return. Did I forget to mention I have a watch? I do, it's pretty cool and all. It tells time and that's all I really need it to do. I check it real quick. 5 minutes until I usually leave.

"Hello Mr. Cinders." My voice is meek and shy, but it's deep enough to show I've hit puberty.

"Well hello Phoenix! It's nice to see you early, I have a bit more time to talk with you, and today that's really important."

"Oh, do you wish to speak with me about something? Go ahead." I worry not about my bookbag, nor my homework: they're both in the car and ready for school, so I carry nothing as I motion for him to come closer if he wishes.

"I was wondering if you would work with Misty on the Science Fair project coming up. She's been a tad lonely with her friends all on vacation for the next year or so, and I know that–"

"I would be most enthusiastic to help. I understand the solitude feeling of one's solitary self, and would be most pleased to keep Misty company while working on the project." My project this year was going to be on Plasma Vortex Orbs, which suck in electromagnetic energy to send out high-wavelength and high-frequency pulses, and could possibly interfere with hijacked equipment or malfunctioning systems.

"Thanks, Phoenix. I really am comforted that I have such a nice kid around the neighborhood I reside."

"Heh. Despite the strain of stress from The Perfectionist (my nickname for Mom, so I can tease her ways a bit), I won't fall to anything. I'm too busy to quit."

Speaking of perfection, 3 minutes have passed. Mom will be up in 2.

"Hey, is Misty available to be at the Town Center around 5? I can work with her there without persecution."

"Of course, of course. Well, I won't keep you any longer. Have a good day Phoenix :)"

*He picks up the newspaper on his porch with his tail as he walks back inside, while I myself get in my car and let it warm up for a minute, before promptly hitting the gear shift to Drive and heading out.

While I'm driving, I guess I should talk a bit more about Misty. Now here I'll say it, only because it fits even as a truth amongst anthros, Misty is perky for a dragon. Most are born naturally aggressive or naturally pacifistic, but she's a mixture of both: she has sass and empathy for others in time of need, she has love to give but hate as well, and is mainly just optimistic and brightness glows in her violet eyes. She really does attract a few states, and not the "Celebrity in town" stares, but more like the "I wish I didn't have a girlfriend" or "I gotta not be single anymore" stares. Being nothing but truth here, but her mom is not a figure 8, more like thicker figure 8. I mean, she wouldn't break a chair of she sat in it or asphyxiate you with a hug (well, I wouldn't bet on it), but you probably wouldn't want her to sit in your lap unless you like weight. Misty is a lot of the same, except for two things. First of all, while her mom wears mostly dresses or formal clothing (her mom works with her husband), but Misty doesn't: she instead wears mostly a lot of stretchy sweatpants or leggings (stretchy because normal can't fit well), and usually a logo shirt. You know, one with Starbucks or an Apple logo on it, or a shirt with something humorous relating to math. She really loves that subject with a passion, by the way. Secondly, her figure is already almost as endowed as her mom's, but Mrs. Cinder's body capped its weight and density (that's putting it appropriately) at around 23, and Misty is 17, so it's safe to say when Misty is around Rain's age (Mrs. Cinder, a phoenix, is named rain. The irony. By the way, did I forget to mention Rain is always on fire? True, it's a phoenix fire that will at most heat up the area around her a bit, but still.) you would NOT want to let her sit in a weak chair. She's also currently at that age where her hormones are doing a blitzkrieg, everywhere in her body, all the time, and sometimes when she's around me she doesn't bother to remember personal space. But it's ok.

I haven't been inside the Cinders' house yet, but I know how her room looks from a photo on her phone: purple, with a kind of shimmery effect to the walls. It also looks like your standard geeky girl room. You know the kind: computer desk, TV hung on the wall over a small yet extremely packed bookshelf, a ton of tech, at least two calculators, and a gaming magazine or two. She also has a walk-in closet, sleeps on a waterbed, and her 3 blankets each have some form of Retro on it: one has Mega Man; another has Mario; and the last, bigger and thicker one is her favorite character of all time (to my slight disappointment, my favorite was always Mario), Pac-man in his original form. I mention this because I always wonder how her morning is.

—

•Script Chapter 3, MAC.

Uggghhh, Friday. I love them so much but I hate how I have to sit through them! You can barely hold it in, especially when school's about to let out. I hope I didn't miss him...yep! He's still there. I'll be honest with you, myself...he's even cuter than yesterday :3! There's just something about Phoenix that strikes him a different way than others. Maybe it's just how he is :P anyway!

*One clothes session later. About 2 minutes in real time.*

Alright. Now I'm wearing stuff! It's Friday, and the one for winter break, yaaaay! So red sweats and a holiday shirt. Eeeee I'm excited! I asked Dad to ask Phoenix about the Science Fair project last night, since I know in the morning Dad goes outside to get the paper or the mail, or just enjoy the dark-then-bright sunrise, even though our sunrises look more like someone putting grey paint on a black canvas. I'm good at science, but personally, the projects are so much more fun with partners, and all my besties went out to England for the next year as part of a transfer school, and they'll only be back for college :(! But at least I have Phoenix...ohhhhh, how being filled with hormones is frustrating yet satisfying ;3 well, I better eat breakfast before it gets cold! I don't want to burn it again ;(

Ok, myself, I'll ttyl, k? Bye! But I'll still be here, it's ok :3

(Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will focus on some stuff. Maybe need to change the rating, maybe not. If you have a burning desire to get an anthro OC out there, you can here. Doesn't mean they'll play an important role, but they'll still be recognized. Your choice, not mine. Bya.)


	4. Retina

Script Chapter 4, PCH.

So I'm currently sitting in the commons area. It's a place outside of the school but on campus that you hang out in, take a smoke, make gossip, whatever suits you. It has carved pillars, marble benches and a granite walkway, obviously showing off how much funding was put into League Academy High [this is a fictional place]. I always sit here before the bell rings, and I was slightly surprised to see Misty jogging up to me across the grass and stopping in front of me. I move myself a bit so she can sit down, to which she puts her bookbag down on the grass and sits beside me, a bit too close for a normal person's comfort. But it's ok. I know she has the most massive affectionately crush on me, mixed with teenage hormones and a decent amount of loneliness as of late, so I cannot blame her.

"Hey Phoenix! I got here extra early just in case!"

"In case of wh-"

"In case that you said yes! Yaaaay!" To which the hugs me, tight. Now, a geeky girl with an endowed figure that's a dragon, you wouldn't think is all too strong. Well, you'd be about as right as someone saying that the Earth is flat. Doesn't help that she purposely hugged me right into her cleavage, but it's ok. I've gotten used to this, and it's kind of like a routine in and of itself. After a few moments she pulls me out.

"Soooooo, are you excited for the Science Fair or are you still thinking of that hug ~?" She said with a mischievous smile. So I do the thing I always do in trick questions like these: smile and nod, so she gets that I know what she's up to. She pokes her lower lip out a bit.

"Awwww come on! You fell for that kind of question last time!"

"Whoops. Sorry. Forgot to not catch on XD"

"Weeellll, unless you want me to give you a choose or choose question, then catch oooooonnn! That I'm tricking you into questions with possibly deeper answers ;3"

"As deep as a pristine kitty pool, for the answers are clear and at the surface: you totally like me."

"What?! No way! How would you know unless I told you?"

And that's how the conversation usually goes, before I steer the subject off to school or life or Dez Deins. In blank terms, he was like that Donald Trump guy, but with a mullet and southern. Everyone loves making fun of him because he has no clue what he's doing and really is going for broke in his campaign. School "starts" at 7:30, but the first bell for the earlier students rings at 7:00, so they can put their stuff down or go to their lockers, or at least use the bathroom. I headed inside and sat at my desk, my first class was AP Calculus. Our teacher, Anthony Devens, was a strange mix of bear, boar, and buffalo. Talk about animal alliteration. He's twitchy AF and can never stop stuttering or shifting his gaze to the door. I bet it's because the Algebra teacher, Ms. Tray, has a knack for coming into his classroom to ask for something, like paper or 'that form', and then attempts to seduce him. If you add this to her being a lion and it being in front of an entire class, it's pretty funny. Mr. Devens makes jokes all the time, and if a hooligan or some prankster tries to be a joker, Devens will fire back with a hilarious yet harmless retort. Sometimes we don't even do class, but just take notes on stories from his childhood, and he then grades us on our note-taking skills. Really effective way to make it seem like something is being done.

Anyway, he wasn't there yet, so we had about 10 minutes until the 7:10 bell. I turn around after putting my things down (a 3 inch binder, a textbook, a biology textbook for reading, and my day planner) and see that Misty must've followed me in, already sitting at her desk. Something that we all did on the first day is mark our desks with something to make sure he knew where we sat, and Misty happened to have a fever that day (yes, the first day of school. What suckage.). Now, a dragon fever is kinda painful for others, because any emissions are automatically turned into fire. If it isn't liquid, it's burning something, basically, because the pyrokinetic organs that exist in every dragon really goes on the fritz during a fever. And she sneezed as soon as she sat down, but instead of into her fire-proof clothing and scales, right onto the desk. Also, the desk is missing a screw or two that popped out from her weight. That desk is lucky, though. A hippo that sits behind me and a very obese female human a few seats over both broke their desks. But it's ok.

"What do you think we'll learn today? He said our next unit is 'Secretive', but I really don't think it's anything special :P" Misty speaks to me.

"Probably history, he is obsessed with the history of America after all. Real patriot."

"I would guess. Hope he changes the seating chart soon, it's so boring over here! I really want to sit by you, but the effort it would take is way too much."

"Well, perhaps you can ask him." With that, the 7:10 bell rings, and we both start reading. Amongst the bouts of sudden strangeness that crosses my mind, I do often find peace when reading, not surrounded by murder, hatred and the problems of the world, but a better or worse world where I know the outcome will be positive, most 9/10 times.

Most the time, like anyone else with their head stuck in a book in Mr. Deven's class when he isn't there, I'm interrupted by the class jock-off, Kernt Liwell. Stereotypes existed in books and somehow manifested into the real world apparently. He's a bull. As many people would say, "how original." Usually a star because of his high-ranking status in the football team, and unlike most bully stereotypes, actually has a decently-used brain: he's very knowledgeable about Geography and Ancient History, and while not to the same extent, American History. So of course the patriot hybrid teacher himself put him in homeroom, much to every early person's dismay. He seems to have a personal vendetta against nerds, especially those who don't fight or taunt back. Well, goodie for me, because in the mornings I'm too pacifistic to care. Or, really, even try and bother noticing, I'm too busy not giving a fuck. His favorite way is target practice, and I'm proud to say I'm the #1 receiver on the football team. Why else would he pass the ball to me so many times? Ohhhh, if only I was good at sports. Or not sarcastic.

So I get to feel some lovely artificial pigskin hit the side of my face, and yet again, I still don't care. He usually does this to me because I just don't react, which I really only do so every other person that loves geek culture, you know, AKA his targets, can have extra time not being spent hiding behind a textbook. Today, he seems a little less aggressive, like he was getting my attention instead of spiraling it into my skull.

"Yo, nerdy-birdy, did you see that crash this morning?" He has a voice similar to Barry White, which erases questions on why a lot of girls like him. Star of a team, popular, decently intelligent, and a deep voice. What's to do against a guy like him? Well, at least one thing good comes out of him. With guys like him, who needs to tell children corny jokes to make them laugh. He really has a funny bone or something, 'cause telling him a joke, while it riles him up, also gives you time to prepare yourself (or if you aren't me/someone else who doesn't care, run.).

Anyway, sorry for ranting, brain, I just get off topic with you, 'cause you never stop me ;P.

"No. I would've taken a picture for my scrapbook of things that explode."

"Bro, it was SICK! I saw blood all over the place, it was like, 5 cars crashed! Really hot fire everywhere, it was near that auto shop. Heard that like, 13 people died."

"And this amuses you because…?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"It was totally AWESOME!" He exclaims, obviously pumped at the prospect of vehicular accidents. What a lovely influence, hm?

"You know, that really is awesome. You know what else would be awesome? NOT seeing people die. Of course, the thought of post-mortis grief and misery never would cross into something too thick, of course. I'm not surprised that the thought didn't cross you."

"Bro, don't take it so seriously."

"Sure. On that subject, let's not take the Holocaust seriously, or World War II, or the Civil War, or 9/11. Those things obviously had no seriousness to them whatsoever.'

"Bro! Stop being so dramatic about it." He says with obvious aggravation.

"Dramatic? Sorry, I forgot to stop acting. Unfortunately, you can never stop acting in the perpetual play of Life. Good luck in the world, it welcomes you with open arms! Lined with fire and brimstone." I say all this in different tones of voice to enunciate my sarcasm and deadpan-like last sentence. I can hear Mr. Devens in the hall, and so can he, so he sits down and shuts up. Although. He did at least remind me of something.

…

Did I tell Mom her oil needed to be changed? Eh, she probably has to fix it somewhere else now that the auto shop is most likely wrecked. She'll probably yell at me. But it's ok.

(Don't worry, that message means nothing. It's all good in the Dinosaur room, where everyone's on the floor. See ya next time kids, in the next exciting episode.)

 _Je te dis adieu, je vais vous voir de l'autre côté, bonsoir Mère.._


End file.
